


(wake up in the morning with) a head like, what you done?

by primeideal



Category: Undisclosed Fandom
Genre: Gen, Transmigration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/pseuds/primeideal
Summary: Genre savvy human transmigrates into a Yeerk from Animorphs, shenanigans ensue.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4
Collections: Exchanges After Dark Birthday Bash 2021





	(wake up in the morning with) a head like, what you done?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alana/gifts).



> There's a decent amount of "person from our world winds up in Animorphs" fic out there already, but what the hey, this is a badfic exchange so it's not like I actually need to think through cohesive plots or anything, right???

There’s a voice screaming in my head.

<No!> he yells. <Elweg died. You don’t need me anymore, let me go! Let me go!>

I try to step forward and almost lose my balance. One minute I was swerving as the metro went way too fast, now I’m like a foot taller? And in the middle of…

A dark, underground pit. Walking back from a dock that overlooks an enormous pit full of sludge. Humans in cages. And not just humans. Tall reptilians with blades, long slithering worms with red eyes and too many legs. Impossible. And yet familiar.

<Let me go!> yells the man. <I drove Elweg 708 out of his mind, my mind, and I can do the same to you!>

This is almost certainly a dream. And if it’s not, there’s no harm in playing it cool. <What’s your name?> I say, without speaking. If I’m right, the man should hear me in his head.

<What?>

<It’s polite to introduce yourself if we’re going to be stuck together.> I make my way towards the nearest staircase where other humans are exiting, and try to act casual as we climb up, my mind moving his body.

<You can just read my mind. Take my privacy, like Elweg took everything else from me.>

<I guess I could. But I really don’t want to.>

<Don’t want to? What, are you one of those softhearted Yeerks who thinks we can all just get along and humans will just happily roll over and give up their bodies?>

<Not really,> I admit. <It’s complicated.>

<Right. I’ll say.>

<Human,> I say, <we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. I am perfectly capable of searching your mind and taking what I want from you. But for reasons that go beyond your understanding—> _and mine_ , I omit, <I am not particularly fond of this arrangement either. Now, tell me your name.>

<Kurt,> he says. <Kurt Schroeder.>

<Thank you, Kurt.>

<Don’t patronize me.>

<I am going to try to find a way out,> I tell him, <but I will need some help from you. Where do you live?>

<Uh...Oak Street.>

<And how did your previous Yeerk reach the Pool?>

<He went to Sharing meetings on the weekends. Weekdays, he drove to McDonald’s.>

Driving. Great. One of those normal human things I never really got around to because I was too busy panicking about _what if I pollute too much, what if I’m too much of a klutz_. <And today?>

<What?>

<What day is it according to your strange Earth calendar? They all blend together in the pool.>

<Thursday.>

<Kurt, I need you to answer my question in full. Date and year of this star’s calendar.>

<You are really weird,> says Kurt. It’s progress, I guess. <Thursday, February 18, 1999. Now how about you, what’s your name?>

Oh boy. <You may call me Tavin 256.>

<You’re not a Visser or anything important like that?>

<No. I am, however, detailed to some clandestine espionage missions. For your own safety, I will try to get another host soon so that you need not be drawn into them.>

<For my own safety?> Kurt laughs drily. We’ve reached street level, in the back of the McDonald’s kitchen. <Good one.>

<All you need to know is that I wish to bring a peaceful end to this conflict. As a...sign of my goodwill, I will allow you to take control of your human body to drive to your residence.> What was the deal with Visser One? All Allison Kim had needed was one eyelid to almost kill them both. <If you attempt to destroy your body in the process, not only will I unpleasantly seize control, but my fellow intelligence agents will find future Yeerks for you that are even less pleasant than Elweg 708.>

Kurt hesitates. <You really weren’t assigned to me? You just wound up here?>

That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. <Yes.>

<I guess I have nothing to lose,> he says, and slowly takes control.

If it weren’t for the fact that I was freaked out and muttering prayers to human deities and the Ellimist alike, this would be a much more interesting drivers’ ed course than anything I did in high school. As it is, I try to close off my mind, letting him focus while trying to figure out what I can do if something gets screwed up.

As we’re changing lanes—something I was never good at, especially at night—Kurt opens his mouth. “Hello? Hello. She sells seashells by the seashore.”

Andalites were supposed to babble and play around with language. Not humans. <What are you doing?>

“Talking,” he says aloud. “Shouldn’t a brilliant Yeerk be able to figure that one out?”

He’d been involuntary, I remind myself, which means that even basic social functions were under Elweg’s control. <Who do you live with?>

“What?”

<I want to give you as much freedom as I can in your own home. I have no desire for—coercive interactions with uninfested humans. But I can’t let you give us away, either.>

Kurt gave a bitter laugh. Instinct, maybe. “It’s just me. My wife and I divorced three years ago. I think she’s still free. Our daughter is in college upstate.”

One piece of good news. <And where are you employed?>

“A shipbuilding company. I mean, human navy ships. Not spaceships.”

Unlikely that would matter, but you never know. <Very well. Again, I will attempt to allow you as much freedom as is feasible, provided you do not abuse the privilege.>

“The privilege,” he echoes. “Of living a boring human life and acting like a normal, boring human, and not talking to anyone about aliens. Sure.”

Okay, so maybe I have the “condescending alien” thing down a little _too_ pat.

We arrive at Kurt’s house without incident, and I stay out of his way while he readies himself for bed. This involves more use of a penis than I’d prefer, but that’s life.

Then we settle into a turbulent rest. I don’t know if Yeerks actually slept, so drifting off into unconsciousness, I console myself with the hope this is probably just a very vivid dream and I’ll be human tomorrow.

* * *

Memories, not mine. Kurt with his daughter at the zoo. The Gardens? Kurt reciting cheesy Christmas carols to ignore Elweg—I guess he wasn’t a Shakespeare guy. Kurt and his cousins throwing a football around as kids.

Okay, back to “the universe is screwing with me,” then. <Ellimist, if this is a game, this would be a great time to explain the rules.>

<Frosty the Snowman,> thinks Kurt, <was a jolly, happy, soul...>

<Elweg’s not here,> I remind him. <Get up and get moving, or we’ll do this the hard way.>

“I’m not your first human host,” he says, getting to his feet. “Am I?”

<What gives you that idea?>

“You know the metaphors. Stock phrases.”

<Us espionage types need to be able to blend in on this planet,> I tell him. <And yes, I know all about what Frosty’s pipe and eyes were made out of, so don’t bother.>

It’s a pretty boring office job. Kurt exults in the small liberties of being able to get up and walk around the office or get a drink at the water cooler when he wants to. I mentally log his passwords—this isn’t even a Yeerk thing, just an overly-curious human instinct.

In the meantime, I try to establish the timeline. Yes, the Andalite bandits are attacking. Good. It would really be a waste if they weren’t. No, he doesn’t know much about Leera beyond that it’s an aquatic planet. Elweg was more interested in Earth anyway. Yes, the Kandrona was recently replaced. So pretty early on.

At last, we get home. Friday night, and I can start doing some research. The part in the last couple books where Jake namedrops himself by his last name was always bittersweet because it meant the end of the secrecy, the end of the formulaic, plots, but right now I’m pretty grateful to look in the old phone book (it’s 1999!) under B for Berenson rather than searching through all the veternarians in the area to find one named Walter. There were a couple listings, I realize. Jean and Steve, and Dan alone. But the Kandrona has only recently been destroyed; Dan might be out of state already.

“What are you doing?” Kurt asks. Speaking out loud just for the pleasure of it.

<I need to take control,> I say. <Better for you if you don’t have to compartmentalize.>

“What?”

It’s not like he’s in a position to argue. I seize control and dial Jean and Steve’s number.

“Hello?” says a male voice.

“Good evening,” I say. “Is Jake there?”

“He can’t come to the phone right now. Can I take a message?”

Great. I don’t even know if I’m speaking to Steve or Tom. What can I say that Tom would find innocuous enough to pass along, but Jake would find striking enough to respond to? Do Yeerks have myths about the Ellimist? “This is Kurt Schroeder,” I say, “Tobias’ uncle. I was just wondering if they were out working on their project, but I guess that’s a no.”

“Tobias?”

“From Jake’s science class.”

“I don’t think so, sorry.”

“No problem. If he comes by, tell him he needs to call me if he’s going to be out late. Can I give you my number?” _Please say yes._

“I guess,” says Steve-or-Tom. “Just in case. I don’t think Jake’s had a lot of friends by, though.”

“I’d appreciate it. It’s—” I freeze up. Thank goodness I don’t have to prowl through all of Kurt’s embarrassing memories, because he’s been listening with curiosity and rattles it off, and I repeat it into the phone.

I hang up and exhale. For someone who was alive in 1999, this could be a rude awakening. <Do you have an encyclopedia?> I ask.

“No. Why?”

<Let’s go to the library,> I say. <I need to become an expert on identifying common species of birds.>

* * *

Kurt thinks I’m crazy when we pace around the apartment complex the next morning. That’s fine. If there were more than six birds I needed to worry about, this would be very difficult. As it is, I only need a little review of relative sizes and speeds to gauge red-tailed hawks versus peregrine falcons versus golden eagles. A weekend in the school year means that really any of them could be around; Cassie is probably the most likely to hear me out, Marco the least. Maybe Tobias the least, after what I’ve done.

Birds have better hearing and vision than humans, I remind myself. At least if Applegate hadn’t taken too much poetic license there. I wonder if K.A. Applegate exists in this universe, then shake it off. Life is weird enough.

“Rachel,” I say quietly, the next time we pass the front door. “My name is Tavin 256.”

No reaction. But then, a normal eagle would think I’m just another human.

“I know who you are. I’m assuming you probably have backup I can’t see. But if I wanted to kill you or infest you, I would have already.” Well, maybe her and Jake first, then the others once I figured out their last names. “The real Kurt Schroeder is here, and he’s an involuntary. I don’t want to have to keep infesting him, or get him more messed up in this than he already is. Is there a way I can speak to you and your friends privately? Keep me under guard like you did with Temrash if you have to.”

Silence. Just a powerful silhouette, casting its shadow below. I give it a moment, then start in on another lap.

<I could kill you where you stand,> she says after a few steps.

<What the fuck,> said Kurt, which is about my reaction. <What the fuck are you doing.>

“You could,” I say. “But that wouldn’t be very pleasant for Kurt, here. And you don’t know who else I’ve warned, just in case I don’t come back from this. Wouldn’t it be better to hear me out?>

Another long pause. Maybe she’s conferring with hidden bugs? <We’ll call you later,> she said, <with a plan.>

The plan, when they do call me, is succinct: “Tomorrow at the barn, 2:00, come alone.”

“Confirm the address,” I demand—what do I have to lose? “So I know this is real.”

I can imagine what they’re saying— _he knows Jake’s phone number and Tobias’ name, but not how to get to the barn?_ But they give an address that I scribble down. And then I have to ask Kurt for a paper map.

We go to McDonald’s again early Sunday morning, so at least I won’t starve if something goes wrong. This is almost scarier than meeting the Animorphs; if nothing else, I know how to act in Kurt’s body. But what if I stay in the pool too long or not long enough? How do I swim back to the dock? What if I wind up in the wrong ear? Another Human-Controller I could forceably drag to the barn, I guess, but I don’t think a Taxxon would be able to show up without incident.

I plop into the sludge of the pool and for the first time, confirm that I really am a Yeerk, not just some disembodied intelligence that happened to take over Kurt’s brain (it would make as much sense as some of the standalone books). The Kandrona feels...nice. Not like eating or drinking, so much as falling asleep or waking up in a comfortable bed. Part of me wants to make conversation to see if I can get a better feel for the timeline that way; most of me is terrified of giving myself away, and I don’t say anything other than <Thanks be unto the Kandrona.> Then I pray to Earth’s god some more. It can’t hurt.

Cassie pulled this off, I remind myself—would pull it off, maybe—but she was a good morpher, and had instincts. I don’t know what I am. But by some stroke of luck, or divine intervention, I’m carried along by a ripple that leads back to the dock, and Kurt is there.

<Do you want McDonald’s?> I ask, as we climb the stairs.

<What?>

<I could use some junk food. And we’re already here.>

<What the hey,> he says, and then, <Elweg always thought it was gross.>

The problem with this arrangement becomes obvious once we reached the top. Kurt likes Big Macs and Coke. Me, I prefer nuggets and a shake. And it’s not as if we can really order for two—there’s only one stomach. We split the difference and get a Big Mac with a shake to go. One way or the other, I’ll hopefully be out of here soon and he can eat whatever.

Fortunately, the address checks out. I make Kurt park a block away and we walk slowly towards the wildlife clinic, glancing towards trees and telephone poles occasionally. I don’t really want to knock on the door and be like “Hi, no, I’m just here to meet with your daughter and her friends in private.”

It’s Tobias who directs us to the back. Cassie, Jake, and Rachel are human; Tobias is perched on the rafters (they might not even have met Jara Hamee yet, I remember), and there’s no sign of Marco or Ax.

“Okay,” I say. “I’m Tavin.” Of course, this isn’t true either—my younger self would be in grade school halfway across the country, in this timeline. If I exist at all. That’s maybe even scarier than the alternative. I haven’t worked up the nerve to research myself, and it isn’t like search engines are really a thing yet. But maybe...“This is Kurt. Like I said, I don’t really want to drag him in any further than he already is, so maybe I could infest one of you guys?”

<These are kids,> Kurt notes. <Was one of them your former host?>

“I can’t blame you for being paranoid,” I say, “so if you want to keep me under guard, it might be best to choose...someone who doesn’t go out much.” I guess it doesn’t matter if Kurt learns Ax’s name; he knows enough that the Animorphs are screwed if he gets re-infested.

They must have had a long conversation before, because Ax stoically trotted out from around the corner. <That’s an Andalite,> Kurt unhelpfully acknowledges. <What the hell. What the hell.>

<Yes, it is,> I say. <Now I am going to leave you and go into the Andalite. If I don’t infest you again, thank you for putting up with me.>

<It wasn’t like I had a choice,> Kurt points out. We crouch down slightly, and I disconnect, climbing into Ax’s ear. Whether or not this is some kind of morph thing, I’m grateful that my new body recognizes enough of the Yeerk instincts to be able to crawl in.

If being inside Kurt was familiar but awkward—being tall, peeing standing up, a beard—being inside Ax is completely alien and amazing. I try not to take over, but it’s hard not to swing his eyestalks or his tail, to say nothing of riffling through his memories.

<Hi, Aximili,> I say. <Thank you for putting up with me. I know this is uncomfortable.>

<I do as my prince commands,> he says stiffly.

Oookay. <Do you want to talk to the others? Let them know I made it in?>

<There is nothing I could say that you could not imitate.>

<Well, yeah. But I don’t want to control you if I don’t have to.>

<They will not believe anything I say is really me. You might as well take over and not try to hide what you are.>

<Okay.> I direct our though-speech out loud. <This is Tavin—>

Before I can go on, Marco’s gorilla morph emerges, and knocks Kurt out.

<What are you doing?> I protest. <He’s just a human.>

<And you said you didn’t want him to know too much, right?>

<Yeah, but...> I have more important things to worry about than Kurt right now, I remind myself. Like saving my own neck. <Whatever. As you just saw, I’m currently in a Yeerk body. I say that not because I’m morph-capable, but because up until a few days ago, I was human. A human from the future.> It’s possible Ax has already heard of time travel, or maybe Jake got snapped into the jungle briefly. Either way, I think this is slightly more believable than the truth. <I don’t know how I travelled through time, and I don’t know why I’m a Yeerk. I assume it’s some Ellimist joke. But where I come from, you guys are—studied in history class. I know all about you. So I figure, as long as I’m stuck in the year 1999, I might as well try to help you.>

“You know about the Ellimist?” Rachel asks.

<I know a lot.>

“Why should we trust you?” says Jake.

<For the same reason I said yesterday; if I wanted to kill you or infest you, I could have done it by now.>

“How long have you been inside Kurt?” Cassie.

<Just over three days. When I got here, I was just infesting him.>

<Has the Ellimist ever spoken to you?> Tobias asks. <In your future?>

<No. I’m just...a normal person.> Maybe this isn’t going to work. <I’ve never interacted with aliens, myself.>

“So you’re free,” says Cassie. “We win? In your future?”

<Yeah.>

By now Marco has demorphed. “If you don’t want to stay in Kurt, what’s your plan?”

<I had a couple ideas. First of all, I could stick with you guys.>

“I think the Sharing would notice if Ax started showing up at the Yeerk pool,” Rachel points out.

<I don’t think he’d like it, either. But if it’s just a few days with each of you...>

“That’s going to be even weirder,” says Marco. “The Yeerks have to have a database, they’d notice if we only showed up every couple weeks.”

<Well, my other plan would be to get a combined morph like Ax did and try to become human again.>

“You said you can’t morph,” says Jake.

<Right. But whatever you decide to do about me, you guys need to get the blue box back.>

“Back?” says Cassie.

<It’s still at the construction site where you left it. Isn’t it?>

“That’s true,” says Rachel.

<Wait,> says Tobias. <Does it get moved in the future? Like, where is it in your timeline?>

<Probably in a museum somewhere. But you don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands, between now and then.>

<That’s a good point,> says Ax, silently to me.

<Even Ax agrees!> I note. <Your brother broke the law of...I forget what it’s called...>

<Seerow’s Kindness,> says Ax, and this time he trusts me enough to direct that out loud. Good.

<Yeah, that. And the Andalites back home would get mad if they knew, yeah? But what do Yeerks want?>

“To take over the planet,” Rachel notes.

<Bodies. Like yours or Ax’s or—well, not mine exactly, but something. The morphing technology came along a few years too late, that’s all. You need to get the box back so that you can negotiate with the Yeerks on your terms, not theirs.>

“Negotiate?” says Cassie. “I get the sense the Andalites already tried that. It didn’t work.”

<It didn’t,> I say, <but that’s the past.>

“It’s a reasonable idea,” says Marco. “Getting our hands on the box so we know it’s safe. As a first step.”

<Yeah,> I say. <And while you’re there...>

“Yes?” says Cassie.

Maybe this is even stupider than the rest of it. But then, maybe this is all still a nightmare and I’ll get back to the real world soon. <Elfangor didn’t just crash-land there. He was looking for something.>

<What?> Ax blurts. <What would Elfangor know about Earth?>

<That was Ax,> I note, <this is Tavin. And the thing Elfangor knew about Earth is that a time machine was buried there. It was considered too dangerous for anyone to use. But you really don’t want the Yeerks to get their hands on that, either.>

“A time machine?” says Marco. “And you’d trust a bunch of idiot teenagers with that? I mean, what if I go back and accidentally run over Jake’s dad with a car and Jake is never born?”

“Even in the seventies no one would be dumb enough to let you drive,” says Rachel.

<That’s supposed to be a myth,> says Ax. <The Time Matrix?>

<Yeah,> I say. <And so were Ellimists and _Sario Rips_ and—> _your entire fictional reality._ <Stuff,> I finish. I figure, if the Ellimist didn’t want any crazy timeline shenanigans, he shouldn’t have let me into your world.>

<You are bold to a fault,> Ax says.

Perhaps so. But he’s no longer screaming about me sharing his head, so it’s a start.


End file.
